


From A Wingback Chair.

by TragicLibertine



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Am I The Only One With A Smoking Fetish, Angst and Porn, Blindfolds, Character(s) of Color, Consensual Kink, Consent Issues, F/M, Fat Character, Female Character of Color, I Read Too Much Masoch and Hamilton as a child, Kink Negotiation, LGBTQ Female Character of Color, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Original Character(s), Other, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Porn With Plot, Restraints, Rough Sex, Senses, Sensory Deprivation, Simulacra, Smoking, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TragicLibertine/pseuds/TragicLibertine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can an indecisive Ben and a cunning yet sensitive Tom bring Ami out of her shell on this holiday?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> 'Ello! This is my first fiction!  
> Be gentle, but constructive.  
> I don't own Ben or Tom (Though I would If I could. I'd have them on leashes organizing my American Lit collection.) I own nothing here; just the original female character and the plot line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: I removed the introductory paragraph, it no longer felt...relevant? Needed? Pick a word.(11.5.2013)

Ben and Tom had known what I liked when I was..coming between the two of them. He knew I loved to be fucked mercilessly,  two sets of firm long hands roving and squeezing my body rolls and breasts while my own mind jostled as fast as our bodies. He also knew I would never come that way, and he had not been pleased. My orgasm, or rather his inability to elicit one from me during our relationship, was his own personal burden, after all. To be honest I enjoyed the mind numbing body bruising sex between them, with Ben never letting Tom enter any part of me with his member but my mouth. Tom had been rather cheesed about this arrangement, but he made do each time he forced his thick cock down my throat. It was somewhat to Ben’s chagrin and to my own masochistic delight. 

I felt Tom gently press the bruises I had developed on the front of my thighs from the hours of physical restraint I had been in this week. He had never really been interested in them before, most likely because he never had the time to see them develop. Like Ben did. Like Ben wanted. Ben intended. We intended.

It is hard to bruise skin this deep and rich, but Ben had succeeded through perverted persistence and regular fucks in the cabin, local parks, and even on the mountain. Tom and Ben finally had a serendipitous moment in that their down times finally coincided, prompting them to take this vacation together to a small town hideaway. What it lacked in big city living it made up for in unbounded nature and Southern comfort, one of those places that time lazily passed through, never fully taking anything away but always leaving something behind. By the time I met Ben I had been coming here each fall to watch the colors on the Mountain change. With only two restaurants in town, and each one serving only one meal of the day, we found ourselves gathering for dinner together each night, surrounded by the middle aged locals and few youths, none of whom seemed to notice who these tall English men where (Tourists? Always tourists, I bet they say) or who the shorter, rounded woman with them was.

 We had been here, locked away in this little retreat in this mountain town for three days, and in three days I had not come, despite his numerous diverse attempts and my numerous bestial fuckings. Most of the time we had sex it was just Ben and I alone in the room or in the wilderness while hiking. When we were behind closed doors, Ben would sometimes have my thighs restrained to the legs of the table and my breasts pressed firmly into the cold rough wood of its top while he fingered, sucked, and fucked my body into a spectacular state of ecstasy, but not _that_ ecstasy.  Other times we would be naughty little spelunkers, our naked body bouncing against each other in the darkness of the caves we explored, our moans echoing out like primitive whispers from the land. My brain could easily soar when Ben had his way with me but he could never get me out of my head space; I could never fully leave the walls I had built up around myself, especially in these, the most vulnerable of positions. I did my best to have fun, to be fun, to keep him distracted with my words and kisses and bites and gentle lips and rough fingers and anything to keep him from prying into why none of his usual keys would fit my lock.  It was our conversation on our third night here that prompted us to add two new things to our rendezvous.

“So at this point I’m thinking ‘Gosh, I’m either a horrible lay or’…well, that’s pretty much what I think is happening at this point,” he confided, attempting to hide his dissatisfaction in a grin as he topped off his wine.

“It really isn’t your fault,” I say for the umpteenth time. “I’ve never been able to come with anyone. It’s a personal thing, Ben. Nothing ‘gainst you.”

 I reach over and trace small circles on the back of his hand, feeling the smooth skin beneath my finger’s tip. I cannot help but think of the delectable things these fingers had done to me; some underneath this table. We had eaten here every night, sometimes with Tom and Luke, and every night his fingers had somehow managed to end up massaging my knees under the table or out back while smoking. It was worse when we were the only ones eating, when the boys were back at the hotel, tired from hiking, caving, or exploring the waterfalls. These fingers did terrific, body wrecking things. They touched along my arms and legs in all the right places, sending vibrations through the whole of my body, culminating in what was arguably the reason I could never show my face here again. They might have to discard that chair. Then later on those damnable things fulfilled the many taciturn promises they made at dinner--electrifying contact. Roughly exploring and prodding. The most welcome of violations. Putting them on the table where small town America took its Sunday dinners and blessed its delicious fried foods felt sinful.

“You have been AMAZING, I don’t know how to tell you that or show you that in any other way that I’ve done. I really don’t think this is that big of a deal,” I quietly screamed.

“Oh I think it’s a very big deal, darling.” I felt a heavy hand sit on my shoulder.

I looked up to see Tom standing there looking down on us, then shifting his eyes even further to Ben’s hand as my fingers traced his knuckles. The problem with tables around corners in old restaurants is that they allow annoying English pricks to sneak up on you. And also listen to your conversation, as I was about to find out.

“You seem to be caught in quite a hairy situation, from what I can tell,” he said, his Cheshire grin spreading as he took a seat next to me. It seemed wider, more sinister, but that was most likely my irritation and knotted stomach as he divulged his opinion on our sex life. I suppose I should not have complained; he was, after all, becoming a more recurring part of it.

 I suddenly felt very defensive. I wrapped the shawl I was wearing tightly around me, pulling back against the wall and staring at the both of them. Ben, of course, had a stare so cold it could kill. But Tom was just warm enough to slide past the ice. He threw up his hands in mock resignation just as the waitress came by and took his order.  As she left he gave her a full body eyeing. I gave him an eyeing of another sort.

“Look,” he said, ignoring my discontent,” I don’t mean to come between lovers anymore than I have, but I do think I know what can help.” He hesitated, looking from me to Ben and back again. Our facial expressions softened, as did his grin.

“Just tell us. I know you like avoiding certain conversations. I’ve seen you dodge questions like a rabbit from a lurcher. No questions-as-answers. No bullshitting. No distractions,” he emphasized the last point, mocking my tendency to distract Ben with gentle touches with his best spirit fingers impression. He leaned into and whispered the one set of sentences I didn't want to hear.

“When Amy is alone, with nothing but her hands and vibrators and darkness in the comfort of her bed, what is sending her over the edge? What has without fail makes her orgasm? What gets you off?”

I was preparing myself, organizing the answers I wanted to give and the walls I needed to build when suddenly Tom grabbed my wrist, rather roughly and held it.

“Stop over thinking. Stop bullshitting us. Stop it. Tell me, us, now.” His voice was stern. It vibrated through me like wave of such massive power and certainty that I could not resist bowing to it. I sputtered out the thoughts in my head.

_Oh no. Here it comes. Word vomit._

“Take everything from me.”

“What do you mean? Take away what?” Tom looked riddled.

_Please don’t talk. Please stop talking. Please. You need this. This is all you have. You can’t give them this._

_“_ My power, take all my power away.” I sighed.

_No no no._

Ben was unexpectedly irritated with that answer. Maybe he was watching Tom's hand grip my wrist and my inability to not lean in to him. His foot that had been lazily grazing mine underneath the table suddenly jerked away.

“What in...how…I don’t even know how to respond to that assertion. I mean what _the hell_ have we been doing this whole time then? _Eh?_!” He was confounded, but livid on the surface, just enough to elicit a response from the local patrons to his language.

I covered my face with my hands in exacerbation.

“Calm down, mate,” Tom whispered as he reached over to place a hand on Ben’s arm. Ben jerked back in his growing irritation and began fumbling with his coat pockets, grabbing his cigarettes and excusing himself for a smoke. Tom squeezed my arm and gave me small kiss to the temple.

“I’ll go get him. How about you sit here and eat, and just forget about us, Eh? We’re gonna have a nice little chin wag. You know Ben; he’s just so manic sometimes. He likes to be on top of everything and  now you’ve just told him he’s never really been on top of anything.” He winked and slid out his chair, his long frame bounding out of sight. I sat back in thought at the words I has just uttered to them.

I guess this is the gist of what I meant by taking my power away--no matter how I submitted to Ben I still had my own system of defenses that he did not understand or even notice.  I was always eliciting the smallest measures of control during sex with both of them. I was just lucky that he didn't mind the measures; to him they were all a part of pleasure. I still had power over him, and he still succumbed to what I considered influence under me. Even strapped to a table being taken roughly from behind Ben’s orgasm seemed to rely on my reactions and praises. I also had the advantage of being faced away from him. As long as I could hide my face, my emotions, my eyes from his glare I could stay inside my head. Safe from intimacy. Safe from feeling any insecurity from the body he was claiming as his.  Safe from letting go and losing control. However, tonight I feared something.  I feared that those defenses would be tested and possibly broken. But not by Ben.

By Tom.


	2. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things escalate as Tom crosses a boundary.

_Hey love, Ben and I are popping out for a bit, a few hours, at the most. We’ll meet you back at your cabin then. There’s enough cash in Ben’s coat to pay for everything._

_-Best, Tom_

_Please don’t leave that coat._

_-Ben_

Well that was it. They were gone. Yup. Gone. I am alone. Logically, I knew they had probably gone to a bar or driven out somewhere where Ben could get out his frustrations—there was no shortage of parking points around the mountain for view seekers—but my insecure heart casually saying  that the  boys are leaving you because you are impossible to get off. Walking up the steps to our rented cottage I glance across the pathway. I could see the lights on in the one next door, Luke’s. He was probably doing something important on his laptop, as he could never really take a vacation.  I turned and looked towards the lightless windows of Tom’s cabin. Sighing, I produced our cabin’s key from Ben’s coat pocket and turned the knob and went inside. Nothing greeted me; just unwelcoming darkness. I turned on the fireplace and went straight to the bath. Nothing ever bothered me as much whenever I soaked in a tub. None of my insecurities. No worries. No bills. It was just me and bubbles and a smoke and my own mental soundtrack of Britney Spears, Michael Jackson and Beyonce.

I stayed in the tub for as long as I could stand, staring out into the semi-lit room; staring beyond my concerns. I felt my toes going wrinkly and wondered how warm the room was by now. I was hoping for 76 degrees. It was my own personal heaven’s perfect temperature. I stood up in the bath and glanced out the corner of my eye at my reflection in the mirror. Too much. Wrapped tightly in Ben’s robe, I twisted my hair and threw on my nightgown. The familiar drawl of the local newscaster rang out as I switched on the television, and I drifted to sleep on the sounds of my youth.

_Today the Alabama and Georgia water feud reached a new he..._

_Tonight in sports, why Nick Saban’s new line up…._

_Locals came out today to celebrate…_

_Tonight on the show…_

_The following presentation has been bro…_

_Aminia…._

**Bang Bang Bang.**

There was knocking.

 At two in the morning.

 Someone better be dead.

 I fumbled around to get myself together mentally but stopped as the door lock tumbled, and the heavy wood was pushed opened. I expected a drunken Ben or an apologetic Tom holding an even drunker Ben as he slurred and cursed. I got neither. There was just Tom, holding his phone in his hand in addition to a black bag.  I slurred.

“What the actual fuck, Tom? What do you want? Where’s Ben?”

“He’s waiting for you.” He smiled and closed the door behind him. “Us.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s in my cabin. Come on, now, let’s be going! We’ve been waiting for this for some time now.” He was showing that damnable grin and licking his lips. Being too tired to be impressed or irritated I waddled off the bath to wash my face. What were the doing? What was Tom so excited about? More importantly, where was Ben? I heard a tap at the door.

“Some lipstick would be nice, darling.”

“Youuuu can fuck off.” I swiped on a deep bordeaux color and let down my hair. I knew something was up. I wasn’t entirely sure it was kosher either. But I was going. When I exited the bath, there was Tom, sitting idly on the bed with his hand in the bag. He pulled out something I hadn’t seen either of them talk about, or even mention before. I suddenly knew exactly where they had been.

“May I touch you,” he asked softly, his hand resting on my hip, gently squeezing through the fabric of my nightie at the flesh beneath. I nodded in agreement, but before I could finish he did more than touch. In seconds my gown had been pulled up over my legs and stomach, Tom’s face gently resting in the mass of cloth as he stroked my bruised thighs. He could hear me wincing, prompting him to stop kneading and instead cradle my buttocks in one of his hands. He unfurled his other hand and produced the wireless vibrating bullet.

“I know we’ve never done this before because of what Ben and you agreed to, but I am expressly asking for you permission to use this on you; inside of you. Do I have that?”

I gave him pause and a look that spoke to why I hesitated. He smiled knowingly.

“Ben knows I’m here asking this of you. He’s okay with this if you’re comfortable.”

“Ah, well then go ahead.” I hadn't expected Ben to ever agree to Tom and I moving past oral (then again Ben agreeing to anything with Tom was a shock). I pondered this as I spread myself over his knee. He ran his hand up the inside of my thighs dipped between the fleshy limbs, spreading my full lips open with his cold digits.  A cool slender finger slipped inside me before I could pull away. Tom smiled and stroked harder, his digit curling to tenderly prod at my g-spot. I inhaled quickly, trying to keep the pleasure from spreading on my face. Suddenly I felt Tom withdraw his finger and bring up the vibrating pod, sliding it forward, nestling it against my clit. At that moment I could not avoid the shudders that ran through me, and he couldn't help but grin when he saw them. Smiling, he gently pressed my folds back together and patted my ass.

“Good girl.”

_Good girl._

_Good. Girl._ I felt my stomach disperse into butterflies when he said those words. Tom dropped my dress and let me stand up straight as best my legs could.

“Well it’s time to be going now. See Ben and I’ve…well we’ve been putting our heads together and we think we’ve come up with something you’ll be very happy with. Tell me; have you any experience in sensory deprivation?”

_Oh no._

“Ah, yes, I know of it. Never really played with it myself though.”  _That’s a lie._

“Really? You haven’t? I thought that would be right for you. Well, we thought that maybe you would enjoy a little play between us tonight. I know Ben was a little irate at dinner but he’s better now, even if he doesn’t look it. He’s determined to bring you to ‘glorious excitement.’” Tom chuckled and reached into the bag, producing the remote for the bullet and holding in front of me.

“This may or may not play an extensive roll in that.” He smiled, his hand gently rubbing the dial. The sudden increase in vibration caused me to stop and shiver, leaning into Tom for support. He kept letting out small chuckles as we walked arm in arm to his cabin.

When Tom opened the door to his cabin, I half expected to see Ben sitting on the bed and ready to either talk or fuck, but I was greeted by a less comforting sight—him standing in one of the wingback chairs checking the hardware of something hanging from the ceiling in front of him. Something I’m sure Tom’s deposit on the cabin didn’t cover. Was it what I thought? It couldn’t be. Where did they get it? Is that why they were gone for so long? Was this the plan? It was a newly hung sex swing.

He turned around and looked at us, at me, his chest bare and his beautifully pale waist barely accented by his dark red trousers. He raised a knowing eyebrow. I guess my twitching legs were a giveaway.

“I see you’ve let her have it.”

“Indeed, she couldn’t resist,” Tom answered, gently squeezing my arm.

Ben stepped down from the chair and picked it up, swinging it as he took it to its rightful place behind the swing.  Tom motioned me to the bed and I went, sitting on the edge with my hands fiddling in my lap. Ben sat down on the bed next to me and wrapped his long arm around me, his other hand coming to rest between my anxious palms. He kissed my jaw line gently.

“I’m sorry about what went on earlier, love. I was being so difficult.” His forehead wrinkled in stress. “It’s just that…I want _so_ badly to give you what you’ve given me this whole time. I want to please you. It sounded pushy, selfish when I said it to myself, to want to be the one to give your first orgasm with a man, but I _do_ want to. You have given me so much pleasure, opened my eyes and my mind to things I didn’t even know I could _enjoy._ ” He glanced at Tom for a moment. “You have brought me so many gifts, and I just want to give one of equal value to you.” His forehead came to rest against mine. I brought my lips to his cupid’s bow and planted several kisses.  He gave me a weak but earnest smile.

“So are you ready for this, because I’ve got to say that I’m fucking terrified.”

We laughed together for a moment before Tom came over to us, his shirt already undone. “Well if anyone cares to know, I’m ready.” His trousers were already tight—everything he owned was tight—but his excitement had only made them seem more obscene. Then the bastard wet his lips.

“Well then, shall we begin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated not making this a separate chapter from Ch. I but I'm glad I did.


	3. Auditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sensory deprivation begins as Ami gets caught up in Ben and Tom's machinations.

Everything is dark.

I can feel hands roving over me as I lay suspended in the air, my limbs secure within the restraints of the swing. Ben’s hands are too soft to be the ones wandering over my thighs, tracing circles over my knees. Yes, too soft, too cold, wrong direction. Or were they? I cannot trust my skin to tell me the truth. Unexpectedly, a second set of cold hands grab my neck, massaging the sides of my face with fingertips. I lean into them and inhale deeply; these are Ben’s. I could still smell _L’Homme_ on his skin. He knew I could smell it, knew my face was lingering too long in his touch…knew I would use any sense I had left to fight against my total lack of sight.  He hands quickly pull back from my face and run through my hair, grasping and pulling the coiled strands into his palms; me into submission.  My high pitched whimpers elicit a stop from both sets of hands, and I find my blindfold being lifted.

Tom is the first person I see, his brow furrowed in feigned frustration.

“ _You_ are quite hard on the ears, darling. I don’t expect to hear any more of that pitch from you tonight. Do you understand? Other noises will suffice.” He licks his lips and smiles before bending down over me further.  I inhale deeply, taking in his scent. Tom smells like velvet feels—deep, lush—like he could suffocate you with his scent if inhaled too hard. Holding my neck, he plants an unexpected kiss on my cheek and lingers, letting his stubble graze my skin.  Tom never breaks eye contact with me; he knows this method of seduction too well. He then moves down to sit on the bed, the swing and my legs close enough for him to gently rest his arms on my thighs. His fingers tap out a simple rhythm on my calf.  Good ol’ Tom.  All of a sudden, Ben speaks.

“Lean her towards me.”  

Like a cat, Tom’s over me, his once idle hands were suddenly gripping my throat, bending me forwards towards Ben (Technically for me it was backwards. How did he _know_ if I was that limber? Rude.) I focused my eyes.

From a wingback chair, Ben takes a long drag from his cigarette; his feet planted firmly on the ground and his eyes planted firmly on me, or rather my full submissive display. Tom and I are fully disrobed but Ben keeps his underwear—strange. I lay there suspended in mid air at the edge of the bed, my body strapped in and in full presentation to him. My eyes try to focus, to meet his gaze, but the hands on my throat are distracting me, one wandering down my shoulder to scratch along my arms.

I couldn’t be sure that the person I was looking at was Ben; there was no perceivable joy or emotion on his face. There was coldness, but not anger. There was love, but not the warm kind I was expecting. L _ove_ , why was I calling it _love_? What I was looking at wasn’t love. It was calculated victory in lust and ego.  This was Fabius having a smoke and laughing and at Hannibal before starving him out. Ben lets out a sigh and brings his cig to rest before speaking the most deliberate, delicate words.

“Well then. I want you to know, Ami, that you are about to be broken.” He leans forward, twisting his hands in my hair. Not enough to hurt, but enough to ensure he has my attention.

“We are going to break you apart from the outside in. You have no control in this space. Do you understand that? I will deprive your senses.  You will never know what we are doing until it happens. You will not be able to use your usual tricks, sorcery. You are not allowed defenses here. No punishment will be necessary because you simply will have no room or chance for error. Do you understand all of this?”

 _Oh shit._ I begin to rationalize. Rationalize anything. Think. Thinking has always kept me safe. I closed my eyes. I was another second into thought when I felt the first hand come down across my cheek. His cologne lingered in the stinging flesh.

“Yes or no. No hesitation.” He gripped my jaw.

“Yes,” I manage to stammer out, my voice breaking as I fight back tears.  I strain to look up towards Tom’s face for some reassurance. Instead I find a strike of lightning in the blue of his eyes. The last thing I see before Ben replaces the blindfold is him taking yet another drag from his cigarette. He leans down and kisses me, shot--gunning the smoke into my lungs, filling up the first part of me he was going to take that night. He assured that when I breathed, I breathed him, expelled him from my lungs, coughed and choked on his vices.  My world goes deaf as hands, most likely Ben’s, put in place a set of ear plugs.  I am in their control. I am scared but ready. Tom’s faint laugh can just barely be heard in the distance. Then it hit me.

Ben should be moving and switching places right now, shouldn’t he? We agreed to never have anything more than the occasional blow job with Tom and until tonight, that was a pretty firm rule.  It was slowly making sense. He was the reason Ben bought the swing. He had convinced Ben to stretch our first rule of multiples sex. This was why Tom gave me the vibrator earlier.  Why he had been so tactile since they got back. Surely this wasn’t happening. I had considered this so many times but I never thought Ben would agree to Tom and I… and _this._

No one was moving from their positions.

Suddenly I’m aware that Tom’s still there, between my legs. His once cold hands are moving up and down over my inner thighs, rubbing them, squeezing them. His body is shifting, coming closer. I can feel his cock come to rest against my ass as he pulls me forward into his lap.  Slick wet fingers surprise me by pushing their way inside my pulsing cunt. Tom was breaking our first rule. _What was Ben thinking? Why was Ben not doing anything?_

Tom’s fingers start to pump away inside me; I struggle under him. I can feel his breath against my chest; his stubble scrapes along my nipple in what surely must be hellish pleasure. His fingers are curling, plunging, pressing against my g-spot as I twist and turn. _Nothing from Ben,_ I think.

 _I think_. I can’t think because Tom’s fingers are pistons now, moving in me, through me; his cock bouncing harder against me as he hooks into my cunt, stretching me open with three long digits that have stroked to the depths of my belly and caused me to whimper in desperation against the top of his head.

Then like a bullet Tom stops dead in my center, slowly pulling out of me, leaving me empty yet teasing still with the glorious prickles of his beard. I am open and floating. Anticipating what will come next.

Suddenly, Ben is back.

 _He was always there_ , I think. He never truly left me no matter how little I felt him. His hands are clasping my shoulders, massaging the flesh as his hard cock, flush against the inside of his shorts, presses against the back of my head. He is cupping me against him.

Tom hands are back too, spreading my thighs further apart. I now feel his cock slide against my plump lips. He’s rubbing himself up and down them, getting lubing his cock with my juices. A jolt runs though my body. Ben feels it too, causing him to grip me tighter. I reach for him out of instinct, but am reminded of my constraints. Tom begins to do what he does best—he _pries_. He wraps his arms around me so his hands come up from underneath and pries my lips apart with his slender digits.

I quiver and moan as he presses forward, his slick head sliding in with ease, but I feel him hesitate. Words are floating through the air between them and I can’t make them out. I begin to squeeze around him, eagerly thrusting myself forward with as much force as I can muster. Ben tightens his grip on me. _To stop me?_ No, to steady me because all of a sudden _there is Tom_ , thick and long, pushing himself inside me, feasibly aiming to split me apart with his girth.

 I began to groan, only to be met by Ben’s nicotine flavored fingers pressing my lips closed. Tom’s hands are wrapping around my waist, pushing through the layers of flesh that now seem so irrelevant.  He holds me tight as he pulls back and pushes in again, stretching me out around him, filling me completely with his presence. Suddenly he’s pumping into me. I rock back and forth as Tom slowly builds a rhythm.  Ben is excited too; he’s trying to contain himself. His body rubs anxiously against me, his hardness pressing against the back of my neck. I feel the deep breaths he’s drawing in his belly. I moan into his hand. Tom’s slow but steady rhythm seems to provide just enough motion to get him going.

But Ben’s erection is floating further away from my mind as Tom builds his speed, pumping into me faster, breaking me open on each thrust and barely allowing me to breathe between them.  Fingers slip into my mouth and I suck them in gratitude, in adoration of any part of his body that Ben gives me to fill the void my other senses have left behind.  Tom is in that void; his now forceful thrusts are the only rhythm I can feel outside of my pulsing clit and beating heart as they flood my eardrums and drown my brain.

He’s riding me hard, his body stretched over me as his face rests between my breasts. I lean in and nestle my chin against his mess of dark blond curls. He’s nipping and suckling at my skin. I do my best to meet each slam of Tom’s bucking hips with my own. Suddenly I feel his rhythm breaking down. Feel him moving to lean into the crook of my neck, his warm breath now coming out in long deep pants. He’s trying not to stop too quickly, so he slowly slides out of me, eliciting a moan from deep in my chest. I feel him move from on top and twist his body. _What’s he doing?_ I now realize why he stopped--the vibrator against my clit quickly rockets to full power. I feel myself losing control; I jerk and twist and thrust my body forward, needing his cock to fill me to again. I beg him not to stop, to fuck me harder, as hands grasp my breasts, squeezing and holding them, tugging at my hardened nipples. I feel Tom move one hand down my body, spreading my wet cunt open again and sliding his cock back inside me, drawing a grunt from my throat. Now he’s moving, swiveling his hips. I can’t help bucking against him for more. I feel his breath beating out of his lungs as his body covers mine again. His warm lips are pressing against my nipple, pressing then biting. I gasp and whimper in approval. He continues to alternate between my two mounds, mouthing one nipple while pinching and squeezing the other. He struggles not to pound into me for his own release; not until I’ve given him, them, what they’ve come for. I am suspended in a constant state of clinched muscles and pulsing nerves as Tom continues to move. I can’t feel Ben holding me anymore; everything has fallen away. I am instinctively pushing against the thick cock inside of me as his hands firmly grip my waist, fingernails digging into my flesh and breaking skin as he holds on for what feels like the end of the word, _my world_.

 _Smoke_. I smell smoke. It hits me that Ben is smoking while watching us. He’s watching Tom fuck me into semi-consciousness, watching me writhe and squirm and make inhuman noises underneath him. Watching me beg for the release I’ve denied him.  He’s breaking me open and using Tom to pour himself back inside.  I can’t think anymore. Everything is on fire and yet I do not care because I feel the waves of climax rising from the center of my body. He’s thrusting, thrusting and tearing me apart into two pieces for them to share. In his fast yet steady rhythm I find myself arching up into him, my orgasm washing over me in waves of electricity. My lungs gasp for air at the feeling of Tom’s cock inside me as I squeeze and shake and pulse under him; my heart pounds out of my throat. He’s bucking uncontrollably now; he’s so close.  His rhythm goes wild as I feel him slide out of me and expend himself underneath me. We are both huffing, both trembling. He rests his arms in the crook of my thighs.

“Enough,” I finally breathe out; this signaling Ben to promptly remove my blindfold and ear plugs.  I am met by a hazy image of beautiful, water colored eyes standing over me.  I try to focus. Ben smiles, ever so slightly before leaning down to kiss my bottom lip.  Within seconds, he bursts into a fit of giggles.

“I don’t understand what’s so funny,” I protest, but the sternness in voice gives way to equally ridiculous giggling.  Ben’s back over my lips in seconds, kissing, nipping gently pressing my cheeks with nicotine fingers.

“I can’t believe we’ve done this,” he whispers quietly, his brows straining to contain his clear amusement. I however, huff.

“ _We_? I wasn’t eve—’’

“Do you two nutters even know that I’m still here? And do you plan on staying, because I _would love_ to get some sleep on the last night of my vacation.” Cheeky bastard. Tom was looking at us with his best nonchalant face, which was only as effective as his ability to control his own laughter.  He started undoing the foot restraints, prompting Ben to begin work on the arms. Soon I was perilously attempting to stand up right and walk with the soreness that engrossed my body.  I walked past Tom with as much finesse and carefulness as a flailing mongoose. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself around them now—a new level of intimacy had been reached, and with Tom of all people! Of course they both noticed. Ben walked around the contraption as wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me into his lanky frame.  

Tom was there in the background, doing his best to not notice our once again closed circle.  I could see him looking at us from the corner of his eye; he was busying himself with his bed time rituals—making tea, putting things away, trying to hide his post perfermance melancholy. When he noticed I was looking, I quickly directed my glance towards the floor.  There was something unsaid, something uneasy the air. We all knew what it was. I planted a kiss on Ben’s shoulder and let him go, walking over to the man so desperately trying to look busy. “Thank you, Tom,” I quietly whispered.  I brought my hands around his waist and nuzzled into his chest.  Timidly, he placed his large hands around my shoulders and planted a kiss on my head.  I squeezed him tighter. Clearing my throat, I stood back from Tom so I could look at them both. I had a proposition.

“We should stay here tonight, Ben. What d’you think? Seems like a waste to leave. Our cabin’s locked and cold and Tom’s is already warm. It’s only a few hours till sunlight anyway. I think we could all sleep here, right? Bed’s big enough. We’ve definitely shared more than a toothbrush in the last hour I think.” I held my breath and looked at Ben. He knew what this would mean. It would be a small gesture of good will towards the possibility of Tom joining us in a more permanent role.

“Yes, I think we will.Can’t be that crowded in this bed, eh? I mean if that's fine with you, Tom...” Ben pulled in his bottom lip, his hand tapping nervously against his thigh as he looked at Tom for some type of answer. Tom frowned. He thought for a moment, letting an uneasy silence hang around Ben’s words.

“I suppose it could work.  Actually, it’s a pretty upstanding idea, I think. But I am _warning_ you all right now…” He gave us both a reticent smile.  “I _will_ kick in my sleep.” Ben let out a relieved sigh, glancing over at me. It was settled then. We looked at each other and spoke without words, nervous yet earnest. Each of us was willing to take the first, second step into what might become a bigger plan.   

 

* * *

 

While in bed, I nervously traced circles on the palm of Ben’s hand as we spooned together. Tom was in the bathroom doing God knows what. _Probably falling in the shower,_ I thought. In our first moment alone since dinner, we looked at each other’s faces, flush with indecision.  

“Oh come on, now,” I said first. “You were decisive enough to let all of...” I waved my arms towards the end of the bed, “ _this_ happen tonight.  Let’s just see how this pans out. We’ve not committed to anything, we haven even really brought up the subject…” I smiled nervously. Ben sighed and covered his face with his arm, leaning back into the pillow. He revealed one aquamarine eye and cocked it towards me. His mind was racing behind it.

“I don’t know, Ami. I really don’t. I don’t understand. I mean, _what_ you want to achieve with this, but I do know that I want you, us, to be happy. Do you really think we can do that with three? I mean, I’m no prude but for Chri—,” he trailed off as the bathroom door flung open, a clean and clothed Tom bounded from within.

I looked into Ben’s eyes for some last minute reassurance of what we were doing. He knew my indecision. He knew that one of us was going to have to be solid, even if they were scared shitless. Leaning in, he whispered into my ear.

“It’s okay. Things are going to be fine.”

With his reassurance, I smiled and looked over towards Tom. He was turning off the light and ambling towards the bed. He decided to crawl across Ben and me to get to his side, sliding over our bodies and nestling in next to my left side.  With my head settled into the crook of Ben’s arm and one hand gently brushing his, I reached behind me, interlacing the fingers of my left hand in Tom’s, welcoming him into the fold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I have been reliably informed that I left some one hanging on the edge of an orgasm, and for that I apologize! I really didn't intend to take this long, but Life decided I didn't need to write. I really appreciate your feedback, sweethearts!  
> 2\. I was listening to "Whole New Way" by Scissor Sisters almost exclusively while writing this.  
> 3\. For the record, the cologne I mention is L'Homme by Yves Saint Laurent. It is my absolute favorite mens' cologne, but not because I love it on men, I prefer to wear its deep sensual notes to most womens' perfumes. I read a tumblr post about a young woman who met Ben and asked him what scent he was wearing and he said something along the lines of Homme, so I'm unsure if it was this one. But damn if he wears it, the city is gonna have to pressure wash me off the sidewalk.  
> 4\. I may attempt to fulfill prompt Numbuh 5 over at thfrustration.tumblr.com with this story...maybeh...


End file.
